


Broken words

by Itsquiettime



Series: Scribbles [1]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Scribble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:39:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4345379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itsquiettime/pseuds/Itsquiettime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Jack had a stutter and hated it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken words

**Author's Note:**

> Another scribble I had while working on that long Chaptered fic. It just spilled out of my brain. WARNING: this makes no sense. Like at all. Sorry.

At first, Jack never utters a word to Mark, but he could see his thoughts burst out in explosions of color and contrast and shadows. He wore his thoughts in the twist of his expressions, in the contour of his body and he morphed anything he touched into his idea of imperfect perfection, into his abstract view of normalcy. He was an undeniable force of nature, beautiful and hectic and silent and breathtaking. 

He knows why Jack prefers to keep his voice to himself. It broke him to know that he would not have had the privilege of hearing him speak his broken language if not for his persistence. But when Mark finally gets to hear the sound-after their friendship was sealed tight and Jack's trust in him was as natural as the sunrise-his stomach dropped between his feet and he snapped to attention because it was a gift. An amazing honor to be trusted enough by an ethereal creature to hear his name pass Jack's lips, regardless of how broken apart and tattered it was. It was beautiful, worth listening to.

He could see Jack's opinion of his voice in his eyes, and it hurt to know that he hated something about himself that Mark found so precious. 

Of course, all of him was precious, it wasn’t an opinion but an honest fact. He just wanted to scream it into the void of space that every little solitary bit of his Jack, from his cute toes to his graying hair and captivating eyes, that he was irreplaceable. 

His eyes. They were the icy blue of an unforgiving glacier but soft and kind as the sky on a sunny day, Mark more often than not found himself staring into them, enchanted by the contradicting spell. 

He was beautiful in a way that was his alone; entirely original from his thoughts to his appearance, and that alone made Mark's heart skip. He was fascinating. 

Unique, imperfect, uncoordinated, remarkable, and just so completely fascinating.

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, it's shit and doesn't make ANY SEMBLANCE OF SENSE, but hey, it's something I suppose.


End file.
